Page 120 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
Ty thrashed against him, pushing at his chest, clawing at his arms. The resistance only intensified Anders’ need to claim, to mark, to possess. He gripped Ty’s face with one hand, forcing his mouth open wider, deepening the kiss with a possessive stroke of his tongue. Each movement was a declaration: You are mine. You have always been mine. You will always be mine.
The taste of Ty was intoxicating—clean despite the fear sweat, with a sweetness that Anders recognized as a pregnancy marker. His omega was carrying his child—their child—and the knowledge sent a surge of primal possession through him that bordered on violence. An alpha’s most fundamental instinct—protect mate, protect offspring—roared to life with an intensity that threatened to overwhelm his careful control.
“Fight me all you want, little omega,” Anders growled against Ty’s mouth, feeling the subtle changes in Ty’s body, the way he unconsciously leaned into the contact despite his struggles. “It only makes this sweeter.”
He angled Ty’s head back, deepening the kiss until the omega could barely breathe. His tongue tangled with Ty’s, coaxing a response even as Ty tried to resist. The hot slide of it against Ty’s sent electric shocks of pleasure through Anders’ body. The taste of his omega after months of separation was more intoxicating than he’d remembered—dark and rich and dangerously addictive.
A moan escaped Ty, swallowed eagerly by Anders’ hungry mouth as his hands slid down to grip Ty’s waist, fingers digginginto the omega’s flesh with bruising intensity. The sound was sweeter than any music, proof that beneath Ty’s defiance, his body remembered who he belonged to. Anders used the sound to push deeper, his tongue stroking against Ty’s in a rhythm that mimicked something far more intimate.
The omega’s scent reached his nostrils, confirming what Anders already knew—despite Ty’s mental resistance, his omega biology recognized its alpha, craved the connection they’d forged in captivity. Ty’s scent glands were releasing pheromones in response to his dominant presence, a biological surrender that satisfied Anders’ most primal instincts.
When Anders finally pulled away, it took all his willpower not to dive back in, to taste more, to claim more thoroughly. Ty was gasping for air, his chest heaving with panic and unwanted arousal. Anders’ own eyes had darkened with hunger as he stared down at his prize, finally reclaimed after months of searching.
With effortless strength, he lifted Ty from the ground, cradling him against his chest.
“Put me down!” Ty struggled against Anders’ iron grip. “I’m not a sack of potatoes! I’m here to save my father. De Luca?—”
“De Luca is no longer a concern,” Anders growled, tightening his grip until Ty could barely breathe. He couldn’t help but press Ty closer, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart against his own chest. After months of emptiness, the solid weight of his omega in his arms felt like coming home. “And now we’re taking what’s ours.”
“What are you talking about? What could I possibly have that’s yours?”
Anders chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. His hand slid between them, coming to rest possessively over Ty’s stomach. The warmth beneath his palm sent a surge of wonder through him—their child, growing within the omega who hadsomehow become the center of their world. Nothing in Anders’ life had prepared him for the fierce protectiveness he felt toward this tiny life they’d created.
“Your scent has changed, little omega. You reek of fertility… and of us. I may not know which of us is responsible yet, but that hardly matters.”
Anders watched the realization dawn in Ty’s expressive eyes, followed by a fresh wave of panic. The omega had known he was pregnant, but perhaps not that alphas—particularly potential sires—could detect it so clearly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ty whispered, terror making his voice thin.
Anders’ eyes narrowed, and he leaned in close, inhaling deeply at Ty’s neck where his scent was strongest. The sensation of his nose dragging along Ty’s scent gland made the omega shudder involuntarily, his body arching toward Anders despite his mental resistance. The reaction sent a surge of satisfaction through Anders’ chest—Ty’s body remembered them, wanted them, even as his mind continued to fight.
“Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t lie to me,” Anders murmured against Ty’s skin, his breath hot against the omega’s sensitized flesh. “Your body knows the truth even if you deny it. Your crime, little omega, was taking something that belongs to me. To us. And now we’re taking it back.”
As Anders carried Ty away from the room, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them—Ty’s weight in his arms, the heat of his body, the rhythm of his breathing. After months of emptiness, of searching, of planning, Anders finally had their missing piece back where he belonged.
“Just so we’re clear,” Ty said, his voice breaking despite his attempt at defiance, “if this is a kidnapping, it’s my second, and I’m really not interested in making it a habit.”
Anders’ grip tightened, and he paused at the threshold. Looking down at Ty, at the omega who had somehow carved out a place in the heart Anders had thought long frozen, he felt something dangerously close to tenderness beneath his possessive rage.
“This isn’t a kidnapping,” he said. “This is a claiming. And unlike De Luca’s pathetic excuse for captivity, our bond has no escape. No end. Because you belong with us, little thief. You always have.”
The absolute certainty in his voice sent a visible shiver through Ty, and Anders felt a surge of satisfaction at the omega’s involuntary response. As he carried Ty through corridors littered with the bodies of De Luca’s men, Conall and Wyatt fell into step beside them. Anders felt rather than saw their reactions—the subtle shift in their scents, the tension in their bodies as they finally laid eyes on their missing omega. The trinity was complete again, the emptiness of the past three months finally filled.
Ty caught Conall’s vivid green eyes over Anders’ shoulder, and Anders felt him tense. Conall’s usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something darker, hungrier—but Anders could see the relief beneath it, the same bone-deep satisfaction he himself felt at having Ty back in their possession.
Beside Conall, Wyatt’s stormy gray eyes flickered deliberately to Ty’s abdomen before meeting the omega’s gaze with such raw, possessive hunger that Anders could smell Ty’s inner omega responding despite his mental resistance. Anders understood Wyatt’s expression perfectly—the fierce protectiveness, the primal satisfaction of seeing their breeding successful, the determination to keep both Ty and their child safe from all threats.
“My father,” Ty managed to choke out as Anders carried him through a corridor lined with fallen guards. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”
Anders exchanged a glance with his brothers, a silent communication passing between them. The father was leverage—a tool to ensure Ty’s cooperation until he understood his place with them. None of them answered, knowing their silence would be more unnerving than any threat.
The hunt was over. Their omega was secured. Their child protected. After three months of emptiness, the Trinity was whole again.
Now the real claiming could begin.
twenty-eight
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